From ensdelk@aol.com Sun Oct 05 06:27:31 1997
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From: ensdelk@aol.com (EnsDelk)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q
Subject: NEW: LOVEWISH (TNG P/Q NC-17) 1/1
Date: 5 Oct 1997 13:27:31 GMT
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Okay, two friends of mine wrote this, and now I'm posting it for them. Why?
Because our lovely authors want to remain anonymous...or, more honestly, they
want to see if you can guess who they are and/or who wrote what.
To check your guess, or just to give a little feedback, you may send to me and
I'll forward, or you can just post to the newsgroup as usual.
So many disclaimers are needed for this story it's hard to know where to
begin. Lesseee....
The characters in this story, as well as the ship, the basic background,
and forty acres of prime real estate in downtown Hollywood, belong to
Paramount. Here, they're being used for fun, not profit.
In addition to being a "ST:TNG" pastiche, this is also a "Lifewish"
pastiche. "Lifewish" and was written by Emma Woodhouse (the slasher, not
the Jane Austen character) awhile back. She gave permission for this story
to be posted. The opening paragraphs in the brackets are from "Lifewish."
NC-17; you know why.
Lovewish
by Anon & Anon
[ Picard froze for a moment, and struggled for another moment,
and then to his own surprise, his arms slowly went around the body
of the exasperating alien.
Q chuckled. He had gone to the right source for advice, he
thought. Still kissing Picard, he maneuvered them into the
bedroom, and when they landed on the bed with Q on top of Picard,
by the power of Q they were both naked.
Picard started to say something, but Q's fingers covered his
lips. "Now, don't argue with me, Jean-Luc. I love you and I want
you, and I won't take no for an answer."
Picard's lips moved under Q's fingers, but they formed, not
words, but a kiss. Q carefully moved his hand from Picard's mouth,
and Picard said hoarsely, "I wasn't going to give no for an
answer."
Then they were kissing again.]
Q couldn't help but notice how different this was from being with Tom or
Harry. His research subjects were sweet and lovely, tasty and distracting,
but this was *Picard* now, and the emotional distance which had been a part
of his enjoyment before was now lost. Though he had intended to be
passionate but not overwhelmingly so -- not so much that it might get Picard
anxious -- he found his intentions were unimportant, and in short order he
was moaning and pressing himself against this warm, firm body as completely
as he could.
Fortunately, Picard wasn't getting anxious, and was himself making a lot of
noise and pressing back up from the bed with equal intensity. Q opened his
eyes to see Picard reacting and found himself suddenly awash in the hot gaze
of those hazel orbs.
And then Picard softened that gaze with a quiet smile. "How long have you
been planning this?" he asked, voice rumbling through Q's body from the
connections they had made. "Is this why you've been coming to see me all
these months?"
Q slowly slid his right hand down that lovely chest and stomach. "Yes," he
whispered.
"Is this why you've been thinking about your friend whose lover died?"
Q frowned slightly. He really didn't want to lie to Picard, but he didn't
want a lecture on messing with the timeline either. "Well,
yes...although..." His eyes gleamed with a plan of escape. "Turns out his
lover isn't dead after all."
Picard felt suspicion rise, but then lost all such complex thoughts as Q's
hand suddenly moved to his center and wrapped itself gently around his
erection.
"Ohhhh," the captain breathed. That felt good, and it had been a long time
for him, far too long. He felt that warm touch continuing the change inside
him: affection for Q turning into something much deeper and much more
urgent. He realized with shock that he simply had to have Q. Now. And he
let his eyes say that clearly.
Q felt both desire and fear at that look. He hadn't even considered his
position with the boys. There'd been no question of which role he would
assume. But now...he didn't feel like denying Picard anything, and certainly
the captain wasn't going to be comfortable in a relationship where he didn't
get to be on top at least some of the time.
But still, this wasn't something that Q had tried before, not like this, not,
really, in any form, and he quailed a bit at the vulnerability required.
And then an image came to him: two lovely young men in a cave, overwhelmed
with each other, almost incoherent with the euphoria of being together. Was
he worried that he couldn't take what those children could?
Reaching his decision, Q simply held on tight and rolled them over so that
Picard was on top. The captain looked surprised, then smiled now almost
shyly.
"Are you sure?" he murmured, touched deeply by Q's decision, by this offer,
as he saw the hesitation lingering in those dark brown eyes. Q nodded, and
looked suspiciously as if he was too overcome by emotion to speak.
Picard closed his eyes at the wonder of it, then lowered his head to kiss Q's
full, sensuous mouth, then to trace a pattern down to his chin, his neck, his
chest, listening to Q's little noises and feeling his body shiver. This
really wasn't so different from being with a woman -- yet, anyway. Something
quite new in the experience was pressing against his leg, but rather than
making him feel awkward or uncomfortable, that hot touch was simply reminding
him that he was with Q.
And kissing Q's chest was fun. His nipples were wonderfully sensitive, and
his skin was soft and his muscles were firmer than he'd expected. And each
of his touches brought forth a growing response, until Q was groaning loudly
and shuddering deeply.
"Now, Jean-Luc," Q said finally, and drew his legs back and up.
Picard was both incredibly aroused and a little puzzled. He really didn't
know much about this part, and he hadn't thought -- if he had ever given this
sort of thing much thought -- that men did it in this position. Perhaps he
should have let Q take the lead after all.
But he reminded himself almost sternly that he had been in this position
before with women. It was just a matter of going slowly, being careful,
and watching for his partner's pleasure.
And then he realized that it wasn't simply ignorance that made him hesitate,
but uncertainty. *Could* he touch Q that way? Was he really going to be
allowed?
And abruptly Q did take the lead, without taking away from Picard's control.
Gently, he took the captain's hand and and spread it with lubrication --
Picard forced himself not to react unduly to the sudden appearance of the
warm oil -- and guided those strong fingers inside himself, staring now into
Jean-Luc's eyes with an intimacy that left them both trembling and full of a
need to join with each other any way they could. Picard nodded finally and,
his erection also now covered in warm lubrication, looked down to see better
what he was doing.
And so he saw Q's erection properly for the first time: large but not vainly
so, flushed almost purple red and leaking at the tip, rising up nice and
straight and eager for the touch of a lover. And then further down he could
see his own fingers inside Q's ass and the reality of what he was doing fell
on him and he suddenly couldn't get inside Q fast enough.
"Slowly," Q warned, sensing Picard's urgency with delight that left him weak
and empty. He couldn't remember ever wanting something so fiercely as he
wanted Picard to fuck him. "I haven't...slowly or you'll hurt me."
Picard actually moaned aloud at those words. He wouldn't hurt Q, not for the
world, and he knew he believed those simple words completely. Q had made
himself real enough to be hurt, and demanded the care he would show to any
lover.
And so he put his erection as far from himself as he could, working now with
three fingers, until Q whispered that he was ready, pushing down against
Picard's hand and spreading his legs even wider. Thoughts of previous lovers
were driven from Q's mind, and the entity felt unprepared and uncertain and
so desperate for the captain to be inside him he almost regretted telling
Picard to go slow.
But then the velvet tip of the man he loved, the man he had chosen to love,
the man he couldn't help but adore, was pressing against him, and a hundred
nerve endings all over his body seemed to catch fire and fill him with the
promise of ecstasy and he tried to press back, to urge Picard forward.
Oh, this was wonderful, the man thought, pushing in as hard as he dared to
get through that tight ring. He was inside, then, and Q was hot and tight
and perfect against and along him. He forced his eyes to stay open, trying
to see everything, feel every sensation, as he pressed his pulsing cock
inside the entity who had been nemesis, friend, and now lover.
"You're perfect," Jean-Luc moaned, thrusting now, a little, back and forth,
going in deeper each time. Those dark eyes seemed to create a warmth that
filled his whole body, and the flushed skin beneath him was fire to the
touch. Q's face, always so expressive, was a perfect depiction of pleasure,
each moan an ode, with each new moment. "Perfect and beautiful."
Q was overcome, overwhelmed, in over his head and loving every second, every
particle of this. Picard was gentle and yet forceful and his body was afire
and there was almost no pain. And then he felt the man's testicles against
him and knew Picard was all the way in. His own eyes locked into that hazel
burn and they simply stayed that way a long, long moment.
"I love you," Q said, making it a vow, loving the simple human words in his
mouth, the simple human connection in his body.
Picard seemed almost confused, then smiled, and it was by far the most
intoxicating smile Q had ever seen.
"I love you too, you strange and wondrous creature."
And then Picard's powerful body began to thrust, slowly, deeply, and Q felt
the pleasure through his whole body, waves of it, increasing with each
movement, spiraling upwards at the knowledge that at long, long last
Jean-Luc Picard was with him, loved him, accepted him. Moreover, he really
knew how to fuck.
"Yes!" Q shouted suddenly, surprising them both with the bellowing roar.
"Yes! Love! Yes!"
And in answer Picard began to thrust harder and faster, putting everything
into each movement, his lust rising up to take him farther and harder than
he'd ever gone. The rush of his feelings would have terrified him, had he
not been so pleasured, so transcended by this feeling of being with Q, of
being in Q, of being surrounded and drawn in and loved by Q.
Overcoming the awkwardness by simple desire, Picard bent and kissed Q hard
and deep and hot and felt those long legs wrap around his back. The strength
of his lover was a new and heady feeling. He need not worry about holding
himself back. Q was certainly a match for him, and as he laughed at the
thought he began to drown in the heat and joy, like a man swimming through
endless waves of love and desire and comfort and pure, white-hot pleasure.
He wasn't going to last much longer, and so he doubled his motions and force
and watched Q scream and writhe and match each thrust. Q's erection was
trapped between them, and when it began to release hot fluid as Q arched his
back and howled and clenched around Picard's cock, the captain knew he could
let go, and did, and was lost in the exploding bliss. Screaming back now at
the entity under him, wanting nothing more than for this to continue as long
as possible, he thrust one more time into that perfect heat and tension and
spent the last of himself inside the body of his lover.
Neither of them knew much of anything for a time. But eventually Picard
roused himself and reached up to kiss Q's lips and whispered, "Your turn."
Something inside Q melted at the two whispered words. How could he ever
have thought that Jean-Luc would hesitate or hold back? Just the thought of
being inside this man made Q's breath go shallow and uneven in his chest,
and he closed his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered softly.
Picard felt a tension in his chest, one that he hadn't even known was there,
ease at the obvious emotion behind those two whispered words. Q was being
honest, he was serious, and he wasn't going to take Jean-Luc's offer for
granted. But that wasn't the only tension that he was feeling. Because of
the greater tension, Picard said something to Q that he'd never imagined
himself
saying. "I'm a little afraid," he admitted softly. And he was, not
so much afraid of the actual act, but afraid of the vulnerability
required. *But if Q could be like that for me, why can't I be like that for
him?* He became aware that Q was watching him intently, and Picard guessed
that his face had given away more than he had intended it to.
"This isn't a contest, Jean-Luc," Q said gently, concern evident in his eyes.
"I know," Picard replied, unable to figure out how to make that one last
gesture, how to reach out for something he suddenly wanted more than he'd ever
wanted anything. "Please," he whispered, and reached out to take Q's hand
in his own, "help me with this." Without thinking, but knowing somehow that
it
was the right thing to do, he placed Q's hand on his chest.
Q guessed at what Jean-Luc wanted instantly, and smiled reassuringly. This
was something he could do, this was something he'd wanted to do, and if it
would help Jean-Luc get over his nervousness, he was more than happy to do
it. *Oh Jean-Luc,* he thought to himself, "I'll make you need me like
you've never needed anyone. Only you could have asked me for something so
perfect.*
Q moved his hand slightly, letting his fingers brush across the light
dusting of hair on that chest. "I'm going to touch you," he said, knowing
that his voice was husky with desire. "I want to touch you and make you
feel good." He pushed gently at Jean-Luc and the man fell back onto the
bed. "By the time I'm done touching you, you won't remember how to be
afraid anymore."
Picard closed his eyes, and let Q's voice wash over him. That was what he'd
wanted, to be driven to the point where his own need was finally so great
that he could actually bring himself to ask for the pleasure. He'd never
let anyone know how much he held back, how hard it was for him to ask for a
lover's touch. Until now. "Yessss," he hissed.
"Beautiful," Q murmured, brushing a finger across Picard's left eyebrow.
"So beautiful." He let his fingers trace down the side of Jean-Luc's
face, leaving the other hand resting on the man's chest. He felt the skin
under his fingers quiver as he reached Jean-Luc's neck, and he leaned in to
let his mouth take over. A combination of light nibbles and firmer kisses
made Picard sigh, and Q smiled. Oh this was going to be so wonderful, slowly
leading Jean-Luc to a passion that he had never felt before. Q thought of
Tom then, and how that embittered, too experienced young man had been so
determined to make sure his friend felt good. How he'd wanted the
experience to be the perfect first time for Harry. And he hadn't even known
he loved Harry until that moment, whereas Q loved the man he was stroking and
kissing so
much, and for so long that he ached with it. "I love you," he said, as his
mouth moved down Jean-Luc's chest.
"Yes," Picard gasped, unable to say more. He was falling now, falling into
this pleasure
that was so like and yet so unlike any he'd known before. Q had reached his
nipples now and was teasing them, gently at first, and then with increasing
firmness as Jean-Luc's gasps turned into moans. It all felt so
overwhelming, and even as his body wanted more and still more, his mind
fought it for a moment. This was Q and Q was dangerous, and Q was... No, Q
was loving him,
bringing him to some place he'd never been before, and Picard could trust
him. Needing to make sure, he managed to let go of his control and seek
reassurance. "Love me," he pleaded even though Q had just said he did.
"I'll love you forever, Jean-Luc, I *promise* it." And because Q was, after
all, a Q, the promise was almost tangible, binding Q like a geas, even as it
reassured Jean-Luc. At exactly the same time, Q reached Jean-Luc's achingly
hard erection, and slid his mouth down over it. Sheltered and safe within the
promise of Q's love and wildly aroused by the knowledge that he was, once
more, inside Q, Picard, instead of relaxing his control, flung it aside.
"Oh, God! Oh, yes! Q!" he yelled loudly. Encouraged, Q would have done more
if Picard hadn't pulled away slightly. When Q lifted his head, he met a
pair of pleading hazel eyes for a moment before Jean-Luc rolled over onto
his stomach. "Oh please," Picard moaned. "I need you...to love me...to be
inside me...oh please, please."
Q's eyes were wide as he moved to comply. He thought he'd seen Jean-Luc
caught up in the moment earlier, when Jean-Luc was inside him. But that had
nothing on this; the man beneath him *was* passion incarnate. Q could feel
the lust and desire and love and need pouring off Jean-Luc in waves and
suddenly he wanted nothing more than to fuck Jean-Luc as hard and as fast as
he could, possibly until they both combusted. He did nothing of the sort,
of course. Picard was so lost in his desire that he probably wouldn't care
*what* Q did, but Q cared.
When he felt Q's finger carefully opening him up, Jean-Luc didn't even
hesitate before trying to relax and cooperate as much as he could. Even
this felt good; yes, it was strange and new, but it was so good and hot that
he hardly noticed the faint burn as Q eased another slippery finger inside
him. He was concentrating now, trying to pay attention to this new feeling,
but it
was so hard to concentrate when part of him wanted nothing more than an end
to the waiting. He felt Q slide more lubricant into him and he relaxed even
more.
"Please," he moaned. And again, "Please. Oh yes, love."
Q's hands were careful on Picard's hips as he carefully positioned himself and
let the tip of his cock rest against Jean-Luc's opening. Gritting his teeth
in an effort to keep from going too fast, he moved inside Jean-Luc a slow
centimeter at a time. Jean-Luc was trembling and shaking beneath him, and Q
could feel the tight ring of muscle clench almost painfully around him
before Picard moaned and then relaxed. Q thrust gently and Jean-Luc
hesitantly pushed back, and, suddenly, Q was all the way inside. "Feel that,
Jean-Luc?" Q gasped.
"Yes. Oh, God. Yes. Are you...?"
"All the way there, love. That's me inside you." Q leaned down and
kissed the back of Jean-Luc's neck. "Does it...are you all right?"
"All right?" Picard couldn't believe the question. This was so far
beyond anything he'd ever felt and Q was asking him if he were all right? In
answer he squirmed and moved until he could arch his hips up. Despite his
overwhelming need, he managed to get a few words out. "I've waited...all my
life...to feel like this..." But the words, particularly as incoherent as
they were, weren't enough to convey what he felt. A small, detached part of
his mind was shocked at the thought that he was here in his bed with Q and
that Q was fucking him. Most of his concentration, however, was caught up
in the moment, overwhelmed with emotions that he *had* waited all his life
to feel. The fact that Q was the one to give him this moment only added to
the emotional intensity of the experience.
Of course, it wasn't just the emotional sensations that were so
overwhelming. Jean-Luc was astonished at how good it felt to be fucked.
He'd never given any thought to what it felt like, but now he was amazed at
the heat of it, a heat that radiated from his ass all the way down to his
toes. It hurt a little, but that small pain was easily lost in the feeling
of being so filled, of letting someone else inside him. Wanting more of
that feeling, he pushed back against Q hard and almost shouted out his next
words. "I love you! Now fuck me!" That detached part of his mind insisted
that one simply did not talk to one's lovers like that, but he paid it no
attention.
Pushed beyond gentleness by Jean-Luc's actions and the rough demand, Q
clamped his fingers down hard on Picard's hips and began to move. Ignoring
the tears that gathered in his own eyes, the entity concentrated on how
amazing it felt to be buried inside the man he loved, how pleased he was at
the sounds of pleasure his actions were producing, and how much he belonged
with this man. "Love you..." he moaned, fucking Jean-Luc with
ever-increasing intensity. "Love you...love you...love you..."
"Yes...oh yes...love you...need you...want this...so much...
love you..." Picard didn't really have to speak; his whole body spoke
for him as he tried as best as he could to meet Q's hard thrusts. It still
wasn't enough; he had to have more of his lover inside him, more of this rough
intensity. As soon as he struggled to go to his knees, Q
understood and helped him up, somehow managing the task without having to
pull out.
It was a good thing that Starfleet valued privacy and usually did a good job
of soundproofing officer's quarters, because as soon as Picard was on his
knees and elbows, he began to yell out his encouragement. "Yes!
Oh...Q...please...harder...feels so good..."
"Yes...Jean-Luc...love you...love fucking you...being inside
you..."
That was what finally did it for Picard; the thought that Q, who loved him,
was inside him, fucking him, made him scream again. For the first time in a
long time, he didn't care that he was going to come before his partner. This
pleasure was for him and it was Q who was giving it to him. Screaming Q's
name, he came, a long, drawn-out orgasm that seemingly went on forever.
When Jean-Luc came, Q yelled and let Picard's movements spur on his own
orgasm. A second after Q peaked, Jean-Luc collapsed and took Q down with him.
To both of them it seemed as if they were falling from a high cliff down into
black velvet darkness. Before the darkness covered both of them completely,
Q felt something in his mind. *Q...love you.*
*Love you, Jean-Luc.* And then for a time, the lovers knew no
more.
The End??